


Don't leave me with broken parts

by andthestorystarts



Category: Almost Human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-01 23:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andthestorystarts/pseuds/andthestorystarts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He registered the change in Dorian’s expression before he felt the pain in his stomach. Which, he thought, as his gaze was dragged down, was not right, he was<br/><em>supposed</em> to be able to feel a bullet (or five) enter his body before anything else. You’d think a thing like that would take priority.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> some people write smut or fluff for a new ship,  
> i seem to write angst.  
> oops.
> 
> this was just a thing that popped into my head and i wanted to get out

In short, the leg malfunctioned.

John never really did understand all the technical mumbo-jumbo, so he couldn’t tell you what went wrong, just that something did, and that something ended up with him lacking a working limb. Which y’know, causes its own share of problems.

 

It does so at the worst possible time, short circuiting and breaking right in the middle of a firefight, right when John needed it the most.

 _No surprise there, really_ , a small part of his head was thinking as his face hit the dirt. _It’s just how my luck always is._

 

When he looked back at it, the metal was twisted in such a way that it entirely eliminated any hope of using it as a crutch of sorts. He’d have to _hop_ his damn way out of there.

 

He wasn’t hit, though going by the worried hands that went over him and helped him up, Dorian thought that he was.

‘I’m fine, the damned scan should show you that. Go help the civilians; they need more help than I do.’

‘No. I’m staying with my assigned partner.’ He caught the nearing-mocking smile on Dorian’s face as he wrapped John’s arm around his shoulders and started trying to get him out of there. ‘After all, isn’t that what a synthetic is supposed to do?’ And John knows that Dorian hates that term, damn near loathes it, barely bothers to respond if John ever slips up and says it, and yet he’s using it, he’s actually saying it, and part of John wonders if that means something, anything at all.

 

He registered the change in Dorian’s expression before he felt the pain in his stomach. Which, he thought, as his gaze was dragged down, was not right, he was _supposed_ to be able to feel a bullet (or five) enter his body before anything else. You’d think a thing like that would take priority. Apparently not to him.

Maybe his body was simply functioning as well as his mind was.

Maybe he just cared about Dorian more than himself.

 

In a twisted sense of irony, there he was, in a kind of reverse rewind, a fucked up playback with slightly edited scenes, where he’s shot and bleeding out, his partner trying to get him away, while the damned MX’s continued to be of no help whatsoever in assisting them, spitting out that he was basically better left for dead, and they had another people to carry off into safety,(John translated to himself.)

_Too late for me, according to those heartless things._

 

Then something clicked.

‘Hey,’ he was frowning, now, one hand on the bloody mess that had once been his stomach, or there abouts, the other tugging at Dorian’s sleeve. ‘You should know that,’ he could taste the blood in his mouth, and that was never something he enjoyed, ‘the MX’s are right, I’m not-‘ he broke off into a round of coughing, which painted his hand red when it finally came away from his mouth. ‘Well,’ he said, the edge of a dark smile on his face, ‘healthy right now.’

Dorian didn’t reply, just set his jaw and continued, almost dragging him over the ground. John stared at him, and it clicked it properly turned into place, that Dorian did know, he knew what the scans were telling him he knew the likely outcome of this situation but that part of him, that part that was engineered to be human, held out a stupid insane hope that against all odds and statistics, they’d both pull through this in more or less one piece. The idiotic hope to keep someone that they cared about next to them for just that little bit longer.

 

That realization almost caused John to stumble over a rock, almost fell, almost took Dorian down with him.

‘You _stupid_ ,’ he cursed, and couldn’t find a way to finish that sentence, so continued(repeated), ‘you _stupid,_ ’ and trailed off.

 

At some point, he felt another impact in his actual leg that was accompanied by another flare of pain, and glanced down to notice that Y _ep, another bullet, thanks for that_.

He didn’t mention it to Dorian, but he found out pretty fast since it made walking a lot more difficult than it had been, and he was losing more blood than was considered safe. John was starting to have a hard time keeping walking, or even keep his head lifted up.

Dorian’s jaw was as solid as a rock at this point, locking it and refusing to give an inch, weaving through MX’s and civilians with a single-minded determination. He was pulling more and more of John’s weight onto him, and John could faintly hear him calling for one of the med teams, but at this point he was swerving in and out of consciousness, let alone understanding.

 

About the only thing that filtered through to John moments before he blacked out, was Dorian almost yelling; _‘You will not leave me here to be without you, John-‘_ a break in his voice, and a slightly delirious part of John wondered who had thought to program that feature in, before there was a quieter, _‘Don’t leave me alone-'_

And then John ceased to remember anything after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i shouldnt be typing because if i keep fucking my wrist i wont be able to type permanently but i really wanna continue writing this so fuck that i'll give it a rest when i do a bit more of this  
> (i just need better wrist posture no more weird typing positions and i should be much better)
> 
> my writing style has probably changed it does that as often as my moods do
> 
> disclaimer: i have no idea how comas work so if i get anything wrong i am so sorry
> 
> also i cant remember what john's ex-girlfriends name is all i remember is that it starts with a so im gonna go with anna correct me if im wrong pleasethanks
> 
> also there are almost definitely typos in here since i don't really beta it and im a lazy shit and it's starting to get late so yes if you see a typo pointing it out would be appreciated

Somehow, John managed to find his way into a coma again, much to Dorian's ~~worryhorror~~ frustration. 

For the first couple of weeks, he simply stayed in the hospital room, ignoring the nurses, talking to the doctors, scanning every couple of minutes, just in case something happened- nothing ever did.

Eventually John's wounds more or less healed, to the point where he'd be allowed to be discharged.. if he was awake.  
Which he wasn't.

 

One day, Dorian found that he couldn't look at John's sleeping face, that it was too difficult to just sit around waiting.  
So he went back to the police force, only checked back in on the hospital room every other week.

 

-

 

The afternoon that John woke up, it wasn't one of the every other weeks. It was whatever week he was in(he found out shortly afterwards by asking a nurse that he'd been comatose for about six months) and he was a little disorientated. Unfortunately, that feeling wasn't as unfamiliar as he'd like. 

He wasn't particularly proud(and knew he'd be teased if he happened to find out) about the fact that the first thing out of his mouth was, 'Where's Dorian?' 

He tried to contact the guy, but somehow he didn't get through- he mused that Dorian must be shut down for the night or something.  
The possibilities of the 'or something' sent a chill down his spine, and he quickly called the first person he could think of, Valerie Stahl.

'Hey,' he said as soon as the phone clicked into open channels, cutting off her 'John, wha-'.  
'Do you know where Dorian is?'   
There were a few seconds of silence, and John used that time to get more worried. 'Is he-'  
  
'He's.. fine, John.' There was something about the hesitational way she said it that didn't help his nerves, and he was trying to tug on his boots and jacket while ignoring the nurses that said he should stay for a the night so they could keep an eye on him, and wanted to know about Dorian, and why she'd said _fine_ , with that small flash of a pause in such a sense that could be interpreted in a very great varying number of ways.  
  
'Why are you saying fine like that'  
  
'Well, he's been.. keeping busy, since you coma'd out.'  
  
'...Keeping busy how?'  
  
'Cases, mostly- but he started to take big personal risks after it looked like you might not wake up again, doing things that put himself in situations that even we would deem stupid. We uh- some of us wondered if he had uh, broken, and if he was going to be shut down.. again, this time for good.'  
  
It took John a moment to proccess that, and tried to ignore the lump in his throat when he spoke.   
  
'So why wasn't he?'  
  
'Even a bit mad, he was helpful to us. Apparently enough so that the higher-ups didn't deem it worthwhile to shut him down, at least at this point.'  
  
'Do you know where he'd be now?'  
  
'Probably at Rudy's.' 

He wasn't sure how well his synthetic leg would work(or even his normal leg, or his arms or fingers or anything really), with being out of it for six months and all, but he'd damn well _force_ it to.

Part of him(a very small part) had half expected Dorian to leave, to disappear when he'd woken up, just like Anna had.   
But then again, Dorian had proved himself, in many ways, to be completely different than Anna- with one(among other) simularities. At some time or another, he cared about them.

-

 

He wasn't particularly quiet about it, barging into the room, causing Rudy to look up from whatever he was doing, gape like a gutted fish for a moment or three, and then sidestep in front of the table that held whatever he was working on.  
'John when did you- you're awake?'  
  
'Yeah as of about an hour or so ago. Do you know where Dorian is?'  
The answering expression that Rudy gave flashed the word _'guilty'_ over his head, though for what, John wasn't quite sure.

'John, don't take him by surprise like this, you have no idea what he's been doing since you've been out-'

'Apparently doing lots of stupid shit that almost got him turned off and crammed into a storing crate for the rest of ever.'

Rudy looked like he was scrambling for something to say, and John was craning neck to see around him, seeing what was on the table that Rudy had been fiddling around with.

It was Dorian.

A very much turned off looking Dorian, eyes back to black, unmoving.

'What did you-'  
  
'I-I'm making repairs, checking to see if any of the wiring has been damaged. He came in and wanted to check that everything was still functional, so I am. He needs to be off for that, don't look at me with that expression.'

'Where's that stick thing' It wasn't really a question, more of an order.

Rudy had to root through scraps of metal for a bit but he held it out, and John snatched it.   
'He hasn't known if you were ever going to wake up again and now he's going to wake up from a routine check and find you there- I don't know how that will go down, John.'

John bluntly ignored him, turning back to Dorian and jabbing the stickthing(he still didn't know what it was called) at the android's ear.

 

And then Dorian was awake again, rubbing where the stick had hit. 'Hey Rudy you could have been a little more gentle with th-' He saw John.  
And blinked.  
And blinked again, as if checking to see if Rudy hadn't just messed up the curcuits as a twisted joke, even though he knew that Rudy wouldn't do that-  
And figured that John was actually there.

'Dorian-' It was all John could get out before previously-mentioned Dorian reached out and in one smooth movement grabbed John's face and pulled him forward, and then there was a mouth over his and it was Dorian's and a white-and-black sheet of static spread over his mind, hindering his ability to proccess, to think. He was vaguely aware of a quiet 'oh christ' and a shuffling sound.

The only thing that properly filtered through was the feel of Dorian's lips and a shocked sounding thought unearthed from the back of his head that shouted: 'wHAT?!'  
For a moment, he pressed forward, his head tilting slightly of its own violation to get a better angle, then steps back, quick because he'd just remembered, 'Rudy, uh,'   
  
and then noticed a very Rudy-less room.  
It clicked that the quiet comment and the shuffling earlier had been Rudy making a quick escape. The bugger had vamoosed.   
Which gave John no escape plan and no idea how to handle the situation.  
He looked back at Dorian, who looked as comfortable as the cat who got the cream.

'Sorry John,' he said, 'I just realised how glad I am to see you out of that bed.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll probably continue this scene in the next chapter but i felt like being mean and cutting off the chapter there  
> mwahahahaha


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> im a little shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but omfg at one point during this chapter i was stuck and i asked a friend how i get from point a to point b and she replied 'clearly the answer is warp speed or a bunny hop'  
> and my mind came up with the image of john putting his hands up to his head and doing the little bunny ears and hopping over to dorian with this sorta vaguely annoyed expression on
> 
> i just felt like sharing that(and completely ruining any feeling of seriousness i may have alluded you to)
> 
> also its past midnight and a friend is watching luther and im half paying attention so if there's typos please do tell me so <3

It’s not that John ignored what had happened(Dorian kissed him, and he sort of kissed back), it’s just that he didn’t know what to do with that, and so reverted back to default setting, just talking about how he woke up just a short while ago and had tried to find Dorian right away.

  
In return, after a little prompting, Dorian had told him what he’d done during the time that John was out. As John had been told, a rather lot of stupid dangerous shit, though Dorian didn’t particularly phrase it that way. Hearing him confirm it made John suddenly nervous, aware and worried about how easily he could have woken up to a world that didn’t have a Dorian- _his_ Dorian in it.

  
The fact that he’d mentally corrected it, chose the word ‘his’, changed it instead of just leaving it, caused a momentary flash, a small questioning as to how he felt about Dorian. He usually ignored the hell out of feelings that didn’t help with his job, as they got complicated and messy as soon as they could, weaving a trap that he could never properly find his way out of.

 

It wasn’t till Dorian cocked an eyebrow at him that he realised that he’d been in the middle of a sentence when the thought struck him, and he quickly continued, layering over that question in his head by asking more about what Dorian had been doing.

 

Eventually, when he’d almost managed to get himself back to normal, there was an echoing tapping of what sounded like metal on metal, and Rudy’s voice flitted over to them, jerking them both out of the conversation.

‘Hey guys, if you’re finished is there any chance I could have my workspace back?’

When they walked past Rudy to leave, Dorian was completely unruffled while John was fairly sure he himself was not. He mentally cursed him a little for that.

 

-

 

 John found out pretty fast that Dorian had taken to sleeping at his place after he went into the coma, and hadn’t really gotten out of that habit.  
He thought about what would happen if he made Dorian leave, the too-silent mornings and noises that should be much quieter than they sounded.  
He thought about what would happen if he let Dorian stay as is, and flapped his hand when Dorian automatically started packing up his stuff. ‘You’re here already, and hell, by now it must be as much a place yours as mine. This place is too big for me all on my lonesome anyway.’

 

And so Dorian stayed.

 

-

 

At some point, John noticed that more-or-less causal touches had become more common between them, knees knocking when one of them flops down on a couch beside the other, clapping each other on the back, a hand on a shoulder or fingers touching as they pass over a mug, things like that. Touches that had once been rare were now a daily occurrence, and part of John wondered when that had happened.

 

-

 

At some point long before the (second)coma, when they barely knew each other, and during a case of theirs(the one involving the sex bots with human dna), John had half-jokingly asked Dorian if the DRN’s could have sex, if it was possible, because since he’d cracked the joke about the guy making Dorian a girlfriend, he’d sorta been wondering.

And Dorian, Dorian just replied smoothly, ‘The DRN’s were made to be as human as possible, John,’ and had continued to flip through the files that he was looking through, not even glancing up.  John hadn’t particularly known what to do with the information, and hadn’t brought the topic up since.

 

-

 

It takes a couple of months till John properly responds to the kiss that Dorian had given him.

They had more or less fallen back into their old routines, backtalking at each other and telling jokes, working together in a way that a human and an MX never could achieve.  
  
Then, John began(at the strangest times) to notice things about Dorian that he hadn’t before, or hadn’t properly taken into stock.  
For example, the way he’d stretch out on the couch at the end of a long day, all long limbs and smooth curves, the gentle look in his eyes whenever he talked to a child, the way he’d fiddle with things on the rare times he got nervous, or the curve of his mouth at any given time.

 

Occasionally he found himself staring, or Dorian would, and give him an eyebrow raise, a nonverbal question mark, and John would pull an excuse out of the air or would blow it off entirely, just look down and continue with whatever he was doing.

 

 

He never particularly spend a lot of time thinking about _why_ , and continued to not think about it until something happened.

 

It was a case like any other, as far as cases could go, and had them plus a few more MX’s and cops scouring the building, guns drawn and pointed, going through the rooms as quick as they could, the humans(and Dorian) getting a little faster, a little less cautious, as the clock ticked down and they still weren’t finding any evidence of the missing girls.

 

Dorian went in front of John, as he always did, as he always insisted(‘You take too long to heal, it’s less of a hazard if I’m the one that’s hit’), turning the corner and then suddenly there was a noise- a crack and Dorian was lying on the ground to the side and a little behind John, sparking slightly and John could see the wiring that made up his insides and he was firing off a couple of shots before leaving it to the MX’s. Quick now, getting back to Dorian, who was looking a little confused, his eyebrows creasing together in the middle. One of his hands curled around a worryingly big hole in his abdomen area(if he even had an abdomen, which John doubted), which was bigger than John liked, and Dorian’s jaw clenched in a way that John recognized from himself, that meant he was hurting pretty bad.  
Which, he supposed, answered one of his unspoken questions as to if Dorian had pain receptors.

 

John got him out of there, feeling a little like he was running away even as he did so, but he needed his partner, couldn’t work with anyone else, not a single other person.  
(And he knew that he was referring to Dorian as a person even as he could see the wires in him but he couldn’t think of him as anything else not when he was so.. _human.)_  
He saw the look in Rudy’s face as he rushed him in and onto a spare table, and was shooed out by Rudy, who was looking worried, which made nervous little things start gnawing at his stomach.  
  
As he sat outside Rudy’s workshop, wringing his hands and unable to do anything but keep an ear out, he worried.  
He wondered if this was how Dorian had felt when he’d gone into the coma, not knowing if he’d come out again, if he’d wake up.  
The very thought scared the living shit out of him.

 

As the hours ticked by, and the worry that was screaming and clawing at his throat and his chest abated a little, settling back to just scratch at his belly and settle behind his temples, he had time to think.

Mainly about Dorian.

 

He wondered if this is what he’d done, given how much time he had to wait.  
To think about their relationship, about what they meant to one another.

 

He must’ve fallen asleep, because he was woken up by the door opening, and he startled upwards, jolting out of the lean he had been in.  
-And there was Dorian, whole and healthy, and John absently thought that this must have been somehow like how Dorian had felt when he’d just showed up out of the coma.

 

He blinked up at him, and something clicked in John’s head, like a switch had been flipped, light had been cast upon everything, and the naked bulb shed light on the very simple fact that he’d been unconsciously avoiding for a long time- the simple yet horrendously complicated fact that-  
‘ _Fuck,’_ he said, vaguely aware that his voice sounded raw, and that he must look like utter shit after basically dozing on a bench the entire night, and that his head wasn’t properly working because of both worry and lack of sleep but he didn’t really care because he’d just realized that-

  
‘I think I love you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also i didn't really reread this through before i posted it(but i got a friend to) so there might be some fuck ups


End file.
